


Passion Fruit Souffle

by greenstuff (orphan_account)



Series: You Asked for It [16]
Category: In Plain Sight
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-18
Updated: 2012-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-10 06:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/greenstuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary's yearly visit doesn't go as planned. </p>
<p>prompt response from mary-marshall.livejournal.com’s post-fifth-season-commentfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Passion Fruit Souffle

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: Anyone : Springbocks , Passion Fruits, Elton John.

“Mary!” Darya squealed, flinging herself at the marshal and pulling her into a hug.   
  
Mary stood stiffly, arms glued to her sides and waited for it to end.   
  
Darya Niazi was one of the witnesses Mary had inherited her from Marshall when she first joined the Albuquerque office. The bubbly, thirty-five year old Iranian woman had informed on her boss for human trafficking and earned a one way ticket to New Mexico when she was only nineteen. Marshall swore up and down that she had always been amazingly glass-half-full even back then, but Mary was pretty sure Darya had discovered peyote in the desert. There was no way this level of cheer was natural.   
  
Mary visited her as little as possible.   
  
“I made the most  _amazing_  soufflé.” Darya gushed, half pushing Mary towards the door. “Passion fruit! I know, it’s not a common flavour, but ohmygod you  _have_  to try some.”   
  
Mary, never one to pass up free food, smiled encouragingly. She wasn’t even really sure what a passion fruit soufflé was, but it sounded delicious.   
  
Music blared from an old boombox on the kitchen counter.  _“Hold me closer tiny dancer..”_  Darya turned the speakers down to a more reasonable level. “Now you just sit right there and I’ll get you a plate.” She pointed to a well-worn kitchen chair.   
  
“How are things?” Mary asked, taking a seat. Even with the free food, she wasn’t planning for this to be a long visit.   
  
“Just great!” Darya doled out a generous portion of soufflé and set it in front of Mary. “I met this amazing guy. He’s a Springbocks fan!”  
  
Mary nodded and smiled, as if she knew exactly what Springbocks were and why being a fan was a check in the plus column for a perspective date. She took a bite of soufflé. “Oh my God.” She moaned. “Darya this is delicious.”   
  
“Right?” Darya smiled proudly, “Would you like the recipe?”  
  
Mary snorted, “You’ve clearly never seen me cook.”   
  
Darya’s face fell for a moment. “I’m sorry,” She said, in a tone that suggested Mary had just told her she had four hours to live.   
  
Ten minutes and two helpings of soufflé later, Mary made her excuse and fled. That would do it for another year.  
  
* * *The Next Day***  
  
Mary’s head was pounding by the time she left the office. She’d spent a solid seven hours going through the MOU with a scumbag con artist out of Arkansas names Willie Steadman. Thankfully Delia had seen the telltale signs that Mary was inches from putting her fist halfway up Willie’s already crooked nose and she’d volunteered to help him settle into his temporary apartment.   
  
Mary rubbed her temples with the middle and ring finger on each hand. Thank God Mark had Nora tonight She loved her daughter more than she’d ever imagined was possible, but she just could not cope with anything more tonight.   
  
She didn’t see the slender brunette leaning against her car until it was too late to turn back.   
  
“Mary!” Darya waved.   
  
Mary winced. “Darya, is something wrong?”  
  
Darya laughed merrily. “No, nothing.”   
  
“Then why are you…?” Mary did her best to keep the snarl out of her voice.   
  
“I was cooking dinner and I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said yesterday,” Darya made a move like she wanted to pat Mary on the arm and then stopped herself. “I just couldn’t bear the thought of you working so hard every day helping people like me and then going home to some take out or microwave monstrosity.” She held up a blue cooler bag. “So I made you dinner.”   
  
Mary’s mouth dropped open, she tried to speak and failed.   
  
“It’s not much.” Darya looked sheepish, “Just a pork tenderloin, a broccoli salad and some homemade brownies.”   
  
“You shouldn’t have.” Mary’s mouth formed the right words, but her hands were already reaching for the bag.   
  
Darya stood in the parking lot waving until Mary’s car disappeared from sight, already planning tomorrow’s dinner in her mind. 


End file.
